


Neverland

by treescape



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Confessions, Dire Situations, Hopeful Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 01:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14201655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treescape/pseuds/treescape
Summary: When it comes to Jack, there’s a million lifetimes of things he hasn’t done.





	Neverland

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime mid-series.

Daniel tries hard not to think of life in terms of what he hasn’t done. He’s seen so many things, been so many places—befriended and loved and learned from so many people. It seems enough to fill a hundred lifetimes, and he holds onto those moments with all the ferocity of his passion. 

Sometimes, though…sometimes it’s hard.

Sometimes the faces of those he’s lost almost overwhelm him. In his dreams, their long-dead lips shape words of recrimination, things Daniel knows they never would have said in life even though he thinks they deserve to say them now. He dreams of all the things he could have done differently. He dreams of all the things he _should_ have done differently.

Sometimes, in moments like this, he thinks of all the things he’ll miss if it really is the end—the worlds he might not visit, the things he might not learn, the dreams he might never realize.

He thinks about never running his hands through Jack’s hair, watching the strands sift through his fingers. He thinks about never feeling the press of Jack’s lips against his own mouth, simultaneously soft and unyielding. He thinks about the way Jack sometimes looks at him, his eyes unfathomable except for how he seems unable to look away. He thinks about the way Jack’s voice sometimes smiles when he says Daniel’s name.

When it comes to Jack, there’s a million lifetimes of things he hasn’t done.

Daniel regrets them all.

\---

The sun is hard and blinding, striking with a heat that holds physical weight. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was a mostly deserted planet--a simple exploratory mission. Now they’re too far from the Stargate, too close to being overrun, and pretty much out of options. It’s as good a place as any for what might be their last stand, here where the narrow canyon entrance will slow the Goa’uld approach to something maybe, _maybe_ manageable.

Jack is beside him, and Daniel can feel more than see Sam and Teal’c beyond Jack. They’ll stand together as they have so many times in the past, and Daniel will never not be grateful for their presence. He hopes this isn’t the last time he’ll think those words.

Jack doesn’t turn to him; he keeps his eyes focused on a point in the distance, his gaze never wavering from the oncoming attack. But Daniel can feel the slightest, barest, briefest shift of his attention, just for long enough to speak.

“You know I was always going to say something, right? After.”

After. After retirement? After one too many close escapes? After he’d one day, somehow, just had enough? Daniel has no idea what Jack means by “after.” He doesn’t think Jack knows, either. All he knows, all he thinks he’s _always_ known, somewhere deep within his bones, is that there was always supposed to _be_ an “after.” It had hung between them, like an unspoken promise, for so long that it felt a part of him now.

There was always supposed to have been a time for them, someday.

They’ve been in situations like this before. Hell, they’ve seen much worse. Daniel doesn’t know why this time is different, why this is the time Jack chooses to speak. Maybe it’s the culmination of a hundred near-death experiences. Maybe it’s just the last staw. A flash of falling dominoes spins through Daniel’s mind.

Daniel swallows dryly and bites back the words that want to come—all but the most important ones. “Me too, Jack.” _Not the time_ , because right now, he needs all of his attention on getting out of this alive. On helping to get Jack and Sam and Teal’c out of this alive.

A second passes, two, three, and he decides that maybe it _is_ the time for one more thing to be said. There’s probably no better time, really. “Maybe when we get home, huh?”

Jack barks a low laugh, eyes still on the entrance to the canyon. But he doesn’t even hesitate, and his voice is gentle when he speaks. “When we get home.”

Daniel sees a flash of movement and grimly checks his position. He widens his stance, balances himself, shifts his grip more comfortably on his gun.

He’s holding Jack to that “after.”

**Author's Note:**

> And then they didn't die and lived happily ever after.


End file.
